


The Line Between Sand and Sea

by revoltrad



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: "quote" was the prompt, ESO 2019, M/M, also includes an illustration?!, this is madakana AFTER they get their shit figured out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 23:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19800103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revoltrad/pseuds/revoltrad
Summary: For Team MadaKana ESO 2019, with the prompt "quote" as our inspiration. Artwork (to be added) by the amazingly talentedMilaaon twitter <3“Have you ever thought,” says Madara, from where he sits, legs outstretched, beside Kanata on the wooden porch of Kanata’s family home, “that you and I are like the waves and the shore?”





	The Line Between Sand and Sea

“Have you ever thought,” says Madara, from where he sits, legs outstretched, beside Kanata on the wooden porch of Kanata’s family home, “that you and I are like the waves and the shore?”

Kanata pulls his knees in closer to his body, wrapping his arms more securely around them, and doesn’t answer.

Madara’s hand reaches forward into the night air in front of the both of them, and begins to move it away and back, like the ebb and flow of the tide. The tall grass sways in the summer night breeze, reminiscent of the sea.

“ _Ittekimasu,_ ” he says, when his hand is near to them both. He pushes his hand away again, and then draws it back once more. “ _Tadaima._ ”

He repeats the motion a few more times, then stretches his hand forward as a lightning bug flies close. “Well, you’d have to say your part, too,” Madara says, glancing at Kanata out of the corner of his eye as the lightning bug lands on his index finger. Kanata watches it light up a neon green, its signal answered by other dots of neon in the navy of the night.

“You only ever ‘think’ of troublesome things, you rogue,” Kanata mumbles, watching the lightning bug crawl to the other side of Madara’s hand. 

Madara laughs, like Kanata just gave the exact response he was expecting to receive. And perhaps he _was_ expecting it, but there is no sadness in his laugh. Those times between them are gone; the ache of unrequited feelings has long since been soothed, and Madara no longer holds back. Kanata no longer wants for him to. But still they play this game, sometimes, with Kanata feigning disinterest, and Madara wise enough, secure enough, to see through the ruse.

“I dooo?! Hmm, but I’d go to any amount of trouble if it was for Kanataaa~,” Madara hums, as the lightning bug lifts its wings and takes to the skies once more. His hand drops back to the wood beneath them, and he tilts his head back to look up at the moon. Kanata hides a tiny smile by pressing it into the skin of his knees as he indulges himself, just for a moment, with the slope of Madara’s nose, the turn of his lips in the moonlight, teal eyes that sparkle like stars.

  
[[view full image](https://sta.sh/011cohja30ad)]

There is something tender in this exchange, something soft in the way Kanata and Madara sit together on quiet nights before Madara must leave, for one thing or another. At this point, what matters most to Kanata is that his rogue comes _back_ , a confession made once in the darkness of night some time after they had come back together in their adulthood, and one that Madara never forgot. Now it is tradition for them to sit quietly together, to savor the simplicity of the present moment, an honest acknowledgment of all the miles it took them both to get here. 

Here, where they are honest with each other in the ways that matter most. 

Here, where Madara’s hand slips into Kanata’s without a word, where Kanata’s fingers intertwine with Madara’s without hesitation.

They sit in silence for a time, just listening to the sounds of summer, grounded in their togetherness. 

As usual, it’s Madara who breaks the silence. 

“It’s only for a week. Just a week, do you think you can wait that looong?” He leans into Kanata’s space as he teases, and Kanata’s eyes flicker, sea green, in Madara’s direction, pout already in place. They play charades through their conversations in just this way, mocking the back and forth of their youth, making puppets out of the years and years that they spent holding back from one another.

“It has been far too ‘loud’ lately, you know. The ‘fish’ have been ‘complaining’ about the noise.” Kanata wrinkles his nose, knowing full well that Madara finds the expression hopelessly adorable.

“Ehh, but I’ve been on my best behaviooor?! Should I go beg them for my forgiveness?! I’ll even do dogeza!” Madara glances at the inside of the house to their backs, where through the doors, he can see the faint blue glow of the aquarium lights.

“That would ‘also’ be troublesome,” Kanata grumbles, “since you would ‘apologize’ loudly, too. A ‘week’...?” Soft lips curl up into a gentle smile, breaking the pace of their play-fight. “Maybe I can ‘talk’ to them for you while you are ‘away’.”

“Ohh?” Madara leans closer, so only a few centimeters separate their faces. Their hands are still linked. “Kanata is going to put in a good word for Mamaaa?” His gaze flickers downwards, then back up. 

Kanata knows what Madara is thinking about already. It was a foregone conclusion to their game, really; it happens like this every time, and neither of them will ever tire of it.

“Hmmm… For a ‘price’, I will ask them to go ‘easy’ on you.” Kanata’s lashes flutter in the light of the moon.

“If it’s to make Kanata happy, I’ll pay whatever, you know?” Madara’s voice is quiet at last, a tone saved for Kanata alone, low and smooth… honest.

“Then ‘kiss’ me already, you rogue,” Kanata says, his own voice soft, to be shared in this space between them and nowhere else. A space which Madara eliminates in half a breath, his hands cupping Kanata’s cheeks while his lips press firmly against Kanata’s own. The world outside of them ceases to exist: there is nothing but Madara’s mouth on Kanata’s, the sweep of a tongue and the exhilarating feeling that they only ever feel when they are together like this. Blood pounds in ears like the roar of the surf, and Kanata’s hand curls into the front of Madara’s shirt even as they come up for air. 

Madara’s fingers card through the hair that frames Kanata’s face, his exhale cooling Kanata’s damp lips. 

“It’s only for a week,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to Kanata’s as Kanata makes a quiet sound of complaint. Because they both ache when the other is not by their side, there exists no balm to soothe the ragged edges that their separation exposes every time they part. 

They are each other’s.

“Six days, technically,” Madara adds, but Kanata cuts him off with another kiss before he can begin to ramble.

“ _Six_ ‘days’, and you’ll be back?” Kanata asks, frowning at the childlike complaining quality to his voice that he can’t quite stifle, frowning wider when Madara huffs out a laugh.

“It’s a promise.” Madara kisses Kanata’s mouth once more, sweet and affectionate, then kisses his nose, his forehead, and finally, the upturned palm of his hand. 

Madara picks up his leather jacket from the wooden floor beside them and shrugs it on, smiles at Kanata, and walks until he’s turned the corner out of Kanata’s sight, on his way to the front, where he parks his motorcycle. Kanata sighs, folding his arms around himself. Six days is a long time, and it’s hard for him to forget that his rogue used to leave him for much longer than that, on much less pleasant terms. He hears the motorcycle engine kick to life, breaking the silence of the night, and tells himself that things are better now. Madara always has, and always will, come back to him, selfish though Kanata may be.

“I almost forgooot?!” Madara calls out to him suddenly, and Kanata’s so lost in his thoughts that he jumps, turning fast to see where Madara has peeked his head back around the corner of the house like a real-life cartoon character.

“I love you, Kanataaa! _Ittekimasu!_ ” 

Kanata’s face warms with embarrassment, and he can feel the pout form on his face.

“I ‘thought’ you left!” he huffs, indignant. “Hurry ‘up’ and go, you are ‘scaring’ the fish!”

“I’m not leaving until Kanata says it baaaack~!” Madara grins where he watches Kanata, and it makes Kanata flush all the way down to his shoulders. But it’s not a fight he can win, because Madara really _will_ miss his flight waiting on Kanata like this, and that’ll cause all sorts of complications for the gig Madara’s needed for. 

“I ‘love’ you,” Kanata says, puffing his cheeks out once he’s done.

“Aaaaaand?” Madara shoots back, expression fox-like with mischief. Kanata glares, and they have a momentary silent stand-off until it becomes clear that Madara won’t leave without his prize.

“ _Itterasshai_.”

With a wink, Madara’s gone, and Kanata soon hears the roar of the motorcycle engine fade.

Kanata looks up at the moon, and sighs. It’s only six days, after all. And Madara promised.

_Ittekimasu.  
_Having gone, I’ll return.

 _Itterasshai.  
_Having gone, please come back.

* * *

Six days later, Madara cuts the low roar of the engine of his motorbike off, shakes out his hair after tugging off his helmet, and rolls his shoulders. He turns the same corner from six days ago, only to hear the _pat pat pat_ of bare feet on wood. A flash of lavender fabric, and he steps backwards to steady himself as his Kanata throws himself into Madara’s arms. Madara catches him, like he always does, and wraps his arms tight around Kanata and holds him, just like that, for the span of several breaths.

Kanata never used to be forward like this, never used to initiate the contact. He was never direct about his feelings. But somewhere along the line, the defensive pretense of disinterest stopped being necessary, because somewhere along the line, they both healed. They healed some time after they fell in love, because, like the waves, every time Madara was dragged away from Kanata’s side, he came crashing back into Kanata’s life one way or another. 

And now, the shore receives him with open arms.

Madara presses his nose into the curve of Kanata’s neck, breathing in the smell of saltwater and skin, and draws back.

“ _Tadaima_ ,” he whispers against Kanata’s lips before kissing him. They part a moment later, and Kanata smiles at him, honest happiness plain as day on his face.

“ _Okaerinasai_ ,” Kanata says in return, “you rogue~.”

The first cicada of the evening begins its song, the lightning bugs dance across the field behind their home, and the two find peace once again, hand in hand, cheek to cheek.

They are each other’s.

They are home.

_Tadaima.  
_Right now (I’ve returned).

 _Okaerinasai.  
_Welcome home.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for round one of ESO 2019!! <3 We hope you enjoy, you can find our team on twitter at:  
> [writing for this round](https://www.twitter.com/madarakanata)!  
> [art for this round](https://twitter.com/Milaa_Chan)!  
> Look forward to seeing works from our other two lovely members in future rounds as well: [Mossy](https://twitter.com/TowerOracle) and [Lina](https://twitter.com/_grnch)!


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